


Give Me Your High Love And Emotion

by Holdmeclosedarling (orphan_account)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, desi!wedding fic, zayn and louis are in love and use urdu words to communicate how in love they are
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-30
Updated: 2013-10-30
Packaged: 2017-12-30 23:54:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1024887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Holdmeclosedarling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn takes Louis home for Doniya’s engagement, and they both are in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Give Me Your High Love And Emotion

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Ivy whatsapped me this morning about zouis, and then proceeded to make me tell her my dream about them, bc she is a terrible, terrible minx, and this was born. Desi!zouis eek

When Zayn asks Louis to come to his sister’s engagement, shy smile on his face, the pads of his fingers pressing against louis’ elbow, eyelashes sweeping down his cheekbones, Louis thinks first how soft Zayn looks, all bleary eyed, pillow creases pressed into his cheeks, and second, how there is nothing in the world he would say no to if Zayn always looked at him like he was discovering him for the first time.

So, he reaches over and kisses him soundly, stilling Zayn’s trembling fingers, a silent yes.  
 _(“I’ll go wherever you’ll let me,” he whispers later that night, tucked into Zayn’s chest, “wherever you want me, i’ll be there.”)_

+  
Zayn’s family is loud and open and beautiful, and Louis thinks he’s half in love with all of them, to be honest, from safaa’s bright laughter and Walia’s shy smile, to Doniya’s radiant glow, and Zayn’s, well, Zayn’s everything really.

Louis forgets how big Zayn’s family is, and it’s only when he’s being passed around the room after arriving, from aunt to cousin to sister to uncle, whiffs of sandalwood and lilac clinging to him, that he realizes that everyone is here, that zayn has talked about them all at least once, mentioned them in between laundry or setting up the table for dinner or while massaging Louis’s feet. 

He watches now, as Zayn interact with all his relatives, kissing his aunts on their wizened cheeks, blushing as they pet his hair and speak into his ear, whispers of “ mujhe tum par faxr hai , Zayn ,so proud” " floating in the air and joking with his cousins, head thrown back in laughter, the tanned column of his throat bared, and Louis swallows, thinks about how lovely Zayn is surrounded by family, warm and rosy cheeked and boyishly happy.

As if he knows he’s being watched, Zayn turns slightly and catches Louis’ eye, his eyes crinkling, mouth curved, wide and open, the smile he saves for Louis (soft and secret and fond), and Louis thinks _the world can test me, make me go far away, make me lose sight of you for years , but i’ll always find you, in every world, i’ll always be waiting for you._

He looks away, heart aching sweetly in his chest, and breathes out.

+

He finds Tricia by herself in the kitchen a few hours later, when the sun is setting and the girls are putting mehendi on Doniya’s feet, teasing her about her boy and giggling when she blushes prettily, eyelashes lowered and small smile on her face.  
Tricia is watching fondly from the kitchen, hair pulled back in a messy bun, cutting up chilis and onions ( Louis’s mouth burns and his eyes water at the sight).

"Chup," She calls out, grinning ( and Louis knows what that word means, hears it enough times from zayn when he’s trying to read and Louis is distracting him.), " She hasn’t made a decision yet. She could still say no. "

The girls titter as Doniya’s eyes widen, as if the possibility is ludicrous, and one girl laughs.

"As if, aunty. She’s in love with the bloody fucker."

"Don’t swear, Naina," Tricia scolds, but she’s turning to Louis and winking, and Louis smiles back secretly.

He watches her putter around the kitchen, the sounds of jingling feet and clinking bangles and soft laughter becoming distant, until he hears the slam of the front door and then quiet.

"Can I help?" He asks, suddenly feeling very small in front of this gorgeous, lovely woman, who can read him like a book and who looks at him and zayn like they’re everything.

"Oh darling, it’s alright, sweetheart, but if you want, you can help me with washing up the dishes?" She points to the sink where there are plates piling up, and Louis sets to work.

It’s comfortable and nice, and Tricia tells him stories about Zayn as a little boy, wild and curious and energetic ( Louis thinks even five year old him would have know that Zayn was the one and he isn’t sure what that means) and Louis grins and shares his own stories bout Zayn, 19 and confused how to use the coffee maker, 20 and redecorating their flat, 21 and looking at Louis like he hung the stars in the sky.

"He still does," Tricia says quietly, smile around the edges, "You’re his entire world, darling."

She pauses, takes in a deep breath.

"Sorry," her smile is watery, and Louis wants to press his cheek against her graying hair, wants to kiss the bags under her eyes. He wraps his arms around her, and lets her rest her head against his shoulder. 

"I want him to be mine forever." He whispers, hushed, like he’s afraid that if he voices his thoughts aloud, they’ll never come true, and he feels his throat tightening-

"He’s already yours, Louis." Tricia is looking up at him, smiling softly, pushing his fringe back. " You and him, jaanu, you’re meant to be." 

She bends his head down a little and presses a kiss to his hair, and Louis is so grateful for her, for her reassuring eyes and kind wrinkles and her fierce love.

"What’s going on here, eh?" A familiar voice asks from the doorway, and there’s Zayn, shirtless, sweat dripping down tantalizingly his narrow hipbones, cheeks ruddy from playing cricket outside. (if Louis squints, he can see the bruises on the edges of his ribs from where he marked him two nights go. It sends white hot arousal through him, like a punch to the stomach).

Zayn walks closer to the pair of them, and wraps both of them into his arms, His cheek pressing against the side of Louis’s face. 

He’s beaming.

"My two favorite people in the world hugging without me. Unfair." He sounds like he’s pouting, but his tongue is pressed behind his teeth and his cheeks are pushed up his on his face, and Louis thinks, God I’m so in love with you.

Tricia titters, slapping him on his chest, and Zayn pulls tragic eyes on her. 

"Mummmm," He whines, "You can’t just go around hitting defenseless people."  
She points a finger at him. 

"You know those eyes haven’t worked on me since you were 10, love. Besides, your boy will protect you." She shoots Louis a wink and walks out, leaving the two of them alone.

He feels Zayn curl his fingers around his waist, and he turns to look at him, finding zayn only inches from his face. 

"My boy." Zayn says softly, "Always going to protect me." 

He presses a sweet kiss to the tip of Louis’s nose, giggling when Louis crinkles his nose, and then presses closer, hot and insistent, until He’s slanting their mouths together, and Louis is surging up to meet him, needy and desperate.

They kiss hungrily for minutes, and Zayn moves down lower, to his clavicle, trying to suck the biggest mark he can.

"Down, you animal!" Louis laughs, breathless with the thrum of _zaynzaynzayn_ running through his veins, intoxicating and dizzying. 

"Sorry," Zayn mutters, but he doesn’t look sorry at all. He’s flushed and his lips are swollen, pupils dilated and dark. 

It makes Louis want to drag him to the bathroom and do unspeakable things, but he refrains. 

It’s okay though, because one of Zayn’s little cousins come running into the kitchen, socked feet skidding along until he stops at Zayn’s feet. 

"Bhai, Bhai, Karim and Safaa chasing me!! Help me hide!!" He starts tugging at Zayn’s hand, and Zayn laughs, before looking back at Louis.

"Duty calls." He whispers, and kisses the side of louis’s head, just a brush of lips, before he’s picking up his cousin and swinging him around, leading him to the door, the little boy shaking with laughter.

Louis smiles goofily and leans against the counter top for a long time, dishes half cleaned beside him, long forgotten.

+

Doniya looks gorgeous, hidden beneath a veil, bright red sari hugging her figure, graceful and elegant.

She had been nervous last night, pacing her room, chewing her fingernails nervously, until one of the girls batted her hands away and told her it would ruin the Mehendi, but now-

Now, she looks like she’s in love.

Her gaggle of friends are giggling as they lead her to a makeshift stage, fixing her dress and twirling their hair at the boys who sit on the groom’s side, wearing silk shirts that go tell their knees and long pants, long fabric draped around their necks (“Sherwani,” Zayn called it this morning, pulling it over his lean torso, muscles flexing teasingly), and Louis is wide eyed and awed. 

The girls dance colorfully, their dresses whirling in the wind, anklets shimmering, and it’s loud ad colorful and Louis loves every second of it, loves the the burn of spicy food, the traditions, loves the girls in their shimmering dresses, loves the smell of jasmine in the air, loves the beautiful boy who’s holding his hand tightly, pressing their palms together in a kiss.

It's nearing night time, when Doniya whispers something in Waliyah’s ear, looking shy and fiddling with the pleats at the end of her dress.

Waliyah jumps up and shouts, “Kabool! Kabool! She agrees!” 

And then it’s everyone yelling and excited chatter and kissing each other’s cheeks and Zayn is laughing beside him, muttering, “I can’t believe it. My sister’s getting married!”

And Louis doesn’t know why he does it (he’s drunk off zayn and the excitement and the feeling of this is it, don’t back out now) but he leans up and whispers, “Maybe, it could be us next, yeah?”

And he freezes as soon as he says it, thinks _shit shit shit, pack your bags and leave,Tomlinson, messing up things as usual,_ bile rising up in his throat, But then Zayn is grabbing his face, pressing their foreheads together. 

"Yeah, " he says softly,surely, "one day." 

He tips Louis’s chin up, looking serious and heartbreaking. 

“Mein Tumese pyar karta hoon.” He says, and Louis knows what this means, hears it whispered in his ear when zayn thinks he’s sleeping, hears it murmured into his the dips of his spine, feels it traced into the corner of his smile. 

“tum meri zindagi.” Louis whispers back, confident and sure, because Zayn is his zindagi, his life, his every breath, and he wants this, them, to last in every universe, in every alternate reality, in every life. 

Zayn just looks at him, bright eyed, and leans in.

"Forever," Louis whispers against Zayn’s lips, and Zayn’s answering grin answers it all. 

_He and his boy would be alright,_ Louis thinks, tasting sunshine and love and staystaystay on zayn's lips, _They would be just fine._

**Author's Note:**

> *hides face in hands*


End file.
